


Favors

by Drocell



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Flash Fic, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-29
Updated: 2010-04-29
Packaged: 2017-10-09 05:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drocell/pseuds/Drocell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because when you're a bartender, everyone owes you a favor. [ Sequel to Brawl ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favors

**Author's Note:**

> 500 words exactly.
> 
> **Characters:** Doyle &amp; unnamed bartender.

The size eleven black boot came hammering down into the groin of the man. He let out a yelp of pain, tears brimming in his dark eyes. The biker removed his foot, and snarled. "Your just goods for bothering our bartender," he hissed. "Now get out of here before I bust your balls."

Bully number two helped his friend up to his feet as the two idiots stumbled out of the dark alley.

Pete, the said biker, turned his attention back to the friendly 'tender. His bald head was reflective under the light that was emitted from the exit sign. A husky man with a beard that touched the center of his chest, and piercing gray eyes that held a soft hand of kindness behind them. "If they bother you again, let me know," his voice was gruff. "I'll have my boys hack their pathetic heads off." Pete always enjoyed helping out the bartenders, when he could. You'd never expect the leader of a biker gang to be such a compassionate person.

She smiled, "Go back inside. Tell the other 'tenders that drinks are free of the Angels." It was the least she could do.

The gruff biker gave a wolfish grin. "You always do know how to please a man." Pete slaughtered passed the bartender, and disappeared back inside the bar.

With a confident stride, the bartender made her way over to where Doyle was seated. She stuck out her hand, offering it with a grin. "Did you honestly think I could pick off those two blokes?"

"We're all full of surprises," he gave a boyish grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He took her hand, and she yanked him to his feet.

"Not me," she countered. "I'm just your average neighborhood bartender. I make the drinks, and listen to the babble."

Doyle brushed himself off, giving her a skeptical look. "So how'd ya' convince a violent leader of a biker gang to beat some punks up for ya'?"

Her grinned widened. "When you're a bartender, everyone owes you a favor." She crossed her arms over her chest, and cocked her head to the side. There was a certain sparkle in her hazel hues.

Her grin was contagious. "I guess I'm one of those people that owe ya'," he laughed. Doyle dug around in his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He held the pack up to her. "Want one?"

The bartender shook her head, pushing her dark bangs out of her eyes afterward. "I quit a long time ago. Those things will kill you, ya' know."

Doyle chuckled, "There's a lot of things that can kill me. I think this is the least of my problems."

"It'll catch up to you," she warned. "Everything catches up to you in the end."

"Well, let's hope this isn't the end," he gave a half-smile as the lighter flickered to life.


End file.
